


Hot Water and Echoes

by VulpusTumultum



Series: Tumblr Promptfics [24]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fade to Black, Light Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Game(s), Prompt Fic, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpusTumultum/pseuds/VulpusTumultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://vulpustumultum.tumblr.com/post/139836290347/20-song-lyric-prompts-kamelot">From a Kamelot lyrics prompt</a>- Insomnia: We are all born to leave a scar: Adoribull</p>
<p>
Dorian Pavus is back in Tevinter, thinking about seeing his Tal-Vashoth lover from the Inquisition again.
</p><p>
Could be between vanilla ending and Trespasser or even possibly after Trespasser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Water and Echoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxli/gifts).



Dorian Pavus, leaned back in the clear, steaming water of the bathing pool, not quite ready to go further into it than the tiled bench along the shallow edge, and listened. Faint splashes of the water, magnified slightly and echoing against the room’s walls and columns, the sounds of the manor even more quiet beyond the doors and changing area, where servants- _paid servants, and to the void with what his ‘fellow’ Magisters made of it-_ were tidying up the robes he had shed.

He found his gaze drifting downward again, to the scarring that laid along his side, low over a hip and down to a line along his thigh, not so visible under the water as otherwise. One his more intimate and personal souvenirs from the Inquisition. Thinking of it that way, inevitably, he smiled, remembering _other_ scars, on grey fingers and hands that had traced over this set on multiple occasions.

“And now of course I will be getting rather melancholy, because certainly nothing rounds out a day of tiresome verbal positioning and backstabbing like missing a lover.”

He said the words with a twitch upwards to his lips, and listened as parts of them returned from the intricate tile patterns that made the bath so _loud_ if one had company in it.

And then he laughed, which had even more of an echo, as he pictured what the room would sound like, full of drunken mercenaries unwinding after a fight.

Someday he’d simply _have_ to invite the Chargers, all of them, for some manner of reunion- perhaps sooner rather than later. Considering how he pictured the older, more _traditionally_ paid staff that he’d inherited from his father reacting to their presence, it would be worth the visas and paperwork to get them here, the smoothing over of little incidents that would undoubtedly occur as they passed through to reach Minrathous.

He did miss them all, he truly did, and if he considered _their_ reactions to being let loose in the grand estate bath or gardens, it was a bit of a distraction from what, and who, he missed more than he was quite ready to _deal with_.

Being a mage meant having far too much imagination sometimes, and better to consider the laughter of many than what echoes _might_ be made if it were just himself and his lover having a more private reunion. The sound of Bull swearing when coming, for example, ringing out and how long the vaulted ceiling might keep it alive and going-

_And there I’ve done it to myself, but another letter should arrive from him soon, and then- well, we did speak of it, it’s simply a matter of arranging a trip for myself, or a reason for them to come, and with the responsibilities and burdens there_ must _be some reward beyond no longer freezing and sleeping on rocks._

Dorian sunk lower into the water, half-considering his next letter to his former traveling companion and perhaps _still_ lover whenever it could be arranged, and half beginning to cup and curl fingers around his cock. A little ache to the heart, but one tempered by hope and _remembering_ the Tal-Vashoth’s hands and mouth, the Iron Bull letting him know how glad he was that his ‘Vint had survived.

And proving to that only slightly younger yet somehow so much more _uncertain_ him that the scars on his skin were anything but a flaw.


End file.
